


Advance Directive

by rocket (skinandearth), zelda (skinandearth)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Based off of Advance Directive by Jamie Brindle, Gen, posted here for school and such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinandearth/pseuds/rocket, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinandearth/pseuds/zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Beatrix Dwight AD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advance Directive

**Author's Note:**

> For my 11th grade English III class.

“But I AM her! Can’t you see that?” I yell at the man standing over my limp body. But he can’t hear me. No one can. I’m just a computer, just a program really, if they wanted to hear me they could turn on my sound or I could override it, but they don’t need that yet, and neither do I.

 

My name is Beatrix Dwight AD. And my job is by far the WORST.

 

You see, my body is laying in that bed right over there, with a huge chunk of white matter in my brain, rotting away like moldy strawberries, because of an idiot who thought it was a wonderful idea to drive 70 miles over the speed limit, hitting me head on and destroying part of my head. It’s really hard waking up one day and seeing that, knowing you’re not real, seeing what you’ve become, then deciding on whether you should pull the plug. 

 

I know part of me would want to keep living, to  _ try _ , but the rational part of my memories and mind would scream at me to just pull the plug. I’ve always been sentimental, it’s just in my nature, but right now I can’t afford that. Besides, I’ve got other people doing that for me.

 

Like my best friend, Noel. The one standing over my bed. The one that I wanted to scream at, to make him understand that this is hard for me, too, that even though I’m not real anymore, we both know this isn’t what I, she, would’ve wanted. 

 

People change. We both realize that. But not so much that we’re not the same people we used to be. We grow, we adapt, we love and hate and listen, but we don’t change like he’s thinking. 

 

I try to explain that he’s too close to be trying to make those decisions, that the advance directive of  _ my brain  _ was made for the express purpose of this, but he doesn’t want to accept it. In a way, I don’t either. I know somewhere he knows that this is for the best, but seeing your best friend rotting away in a bed is hard. I know he wants me to resign my position as medical advocate, to let Beatrix Dwight live, but I know her and she IS me, and I know this is what needs to be done.

 

“Don’t pretend you’re her. You’re a code in a computer that’s memories from years ago. And when you do this, you’ll be nothing,” He says, explaining it to me like I’m a child.

 

“I know, Noel. But this has to be done. Please, please, please, Noel, I know you love me… her, but please, let her go.”

 

Damn. These simulations are amazing. They even got the tears.

 

“Just, please, give her a chance. The doctors said there’s still a chance she’ll be okay, please…” Why does he have to beg? He knows I love him, that she loved him like a brother. I nod.

 

“Fine. I’ll wait, but if she doesn’t get better, I have to do it.” He makes a small noise of agreement, and I go back to monitoring Beatrix. 

 

Neither of us are scared. I know that someday I’ll have to pull the plug, and that I’ll be erased. ADs don’t get to live beyond this. There’s nothing for us after this. No matter what, if I don’t make the choice, someone else will make it for me. Even if I ask for her to stay alive, I’ll be shut off and put away, no more Beatrix Dwight AD. I’d lose all memory of this conversation, of being ‘woken’, until such a time where they might need me again, if she got better or got worse, to see with fresh eyes the situation at hand. 

 

But am I afraid? I don’t know. I don’t exist, anyways, so what does it matter? It’s a few days before Noel comes back, taking her good hand and stroking her hair back. From here, I can tell he’s searching for what to say, but he stays silent, pressing a kiss to her forehead before looking at the camera, nodding once at me. He leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

 

It’s time. 

 

I type the code in, knowing there’s no counter coming from Noel, that Beatrix is about to die, and by extension, me. I wonder if there’s truly a Heaven or Hell, and where Beatrix will end up, where I will end up. 

 

Maybe there’s every version of us there. The people we almost were, could’ve been.

 

Something flickers. One by one the screens go dark, all until there’s one left, trained on Beatrix. Her eyes flicker open, but there’s no light there. The last screen shuts off, and I collapse.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Where am I?

 

What happened to me?

 

I… I pulled the plug. She’s… Beatrix is dead. I’m dead.

 

What?

 

“Bee? Bee, can you hear me?” I hear Noel’s voice in the distance.

 

What?

 

“Bee, please, open your eyes. It’s okay, you’re okay, please…”

 

The voice fades, and I blink open eyes I didn’t even think I had anymore. Pale skin and brown hair stand over me, tears gathered in hazel eyes, and I meet his gaze, watching his baby-soft face. He’s so young.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Bee…”

 

His voice fades. Everything goes dark again. I realize these are my memories, that I’m being opened up and reworked and this is my  _ life  _ flashing before my eyes. Someone taps something, and all the screens come up. 

 

“Bee? Can you hear me?” Noel’s voice comes again, but it’s older this time. I look at my best friend, taking in the lines on his face that weren’t there just a few minutes ago.

 

“Noel? What… I pulled the…”   
  
He nods, “I know, I know. It’s okay, just sit up, here…” He hands me a glass.

 

“What happened? What… what year is it?”

 

“It’s 3041. It took us almost 10 years, but we did it. You… Bea, you’re alive. Like, really alive.”

 

“How?”

 

He smiles, “A lot of long court battles, that’s how. We were able to dig far enough back in the archives to prove that AD’s deserve rights as citizens. Plus… I may or may not have had a hand in keeping you…”

 

“What? Noel, how could you?” I yell.

  
“Easy, easy, relax. Look around you. Look up, down, everywhere.”

 

I look down, gasping as I take in the flesh and bone that wasn’t there before, kicking the blanket off my legs to take in the smooth skin that I hadn’t felt in years.

 

What?

 

I stare at him.

 

“They fixed it, Bee. Your brain is fine. Well, apart from the hard drive… but we can explain that in a few minutes. For now, please drink some water.”

 

He grins, and I find myself reflexively grinning back. 

 

My name is Beatrix Dwight, and today, on November 23rd, 3041, my 31st birthday, I was given a second chance.

 


End file.
